


Canon Break at St James' Park

by Ratling96



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21591187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratling96/pseuds/Ratling96
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 12





	Canon Break at St James' Park

Crowley was, at this point, fully aware that he was rambling anxiously, and that he really should just  _ shut up _ already. He didn’t care about whether or not ducks had ears. But he could sense Aziraphale stiffening next to him, and whatever was coming next was most likely not the answer he was hoping for. He could see in his periphery that Aziraphale was looking at him intensely. What he couldn’t see was the dread and concern on Aziraphale’s face. 

"Out of the question!”

Crowley had not exactly been expecting an enthusiastic yes, but the tone of Aziraphale's voice still stung. "Well, why not?" 

"It would destroy you! I’m not bringing you a suicide pill, Crowley!" 

Crowley scoffed and turned to face the angel. Killing himself? He didn't - couldn't do that. 

"It’s just an insurance policy, Angel. For if  _ they _ find out." Crowley couldn't help but glance around, and then down, as he spoke.

"If my side finds out that I had given holy water to a demon, any demon, let alone… Well, I’d certainly be removed from my post on earth, and whoever they sent to replace me wouldn’t take so kindly to you, or our arrangement." 

"Oh. Come on. It's not like they are going to find out.” For a moment, Crowley paused. He adjusted his sunglasses, looking at Aziraphale over the top of them, “What were you going to say, just then? ‘Let alone…’ Let alone what?"

Aziraphale flushed, then went pale, turning away and stumbling over his own tongue trying to brush it off. This, of course, just made Crowley more curious. There were rarely times when Aziraphale was at a loss for words and even mid-argument Crowley couldn’t help but want a peek inside the angel’s head. 

Crowley tried again, taking on a softer tone. “Any demon, let alone… let alone me? Why would I be any different, Angel? Heaven doesn’t care who any of us are.”

Aziraphale turned back to him, speaking earnestly. “It’s you, Crowley. Of course you are different. All those memos you send back to Hell, making a name for yourself. Convincing everyone that you’re so  _ devious  _ and  _ efficient _ . Heaven hears about all of that. They know you by name. It just wouldn’t do, to have anyone think I had given you the holy water.”

Crowley knew there was truth in this, but that still didn’t explain the original hesitation. 

“Well, sure, Angel. But it’s no more of a risk than our arrangement. I don't understand why you won’t just give it to me. It’s not like I’m going to go around telling people. Telling demons that an angel gave me holy water. I won’t be advertising it in the local paper.”

“Well, of course, I don’t want to give it to you! I love you, you stupid demon!”

Crowley froze, mouth opened with no words on his tongue. He blinked slowly, once, then twice. That was well beyond the last thing he had expected Aziraphale to say. In all the times Crowley had thought about admitting his feelings to his angel, or fantasized that Aziraphale felt the same way, this was not a situation that lent itself to romantic revelations. Crowley blinked again, closed his mouth, then fiddled with his glasses, using the excuse to turn away just slightly. He needed to think of something to say, but his thoughts were reduced to mostly incoherent panicking. 

Aziraphale's eyes widened as the silence between them grew longer. He started to speak, but when nothing in his head made its way out, he closed his mouth again and turned away. As he turned, Crowley saw the pain etched in his forehead, and the way the light had dulled in his eyes.  _ Heartbroken _ .

Briefly, Crowley was aware of the pace of his heartbeat. The trouble with these bodies, he had realized long ago, was that they reacted to emotions in much the same way human bodies do. But being full of angelic or demonic essence meant that the normal limits for a human body were no longer relevant. Consequently, Crowley's heart was racing at a speed more suited to a bird than a mammal. He took two slow deep breaths to settle himself, then reached out towards Aziraphale. 

“Angel, I- did- you can’t mean-” Another deep breath, ever so gently placing his hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder, and speaking in as calm a tone as he could manage “Do you really mean it?”

Aziraphale stiffened under his hand but didn’t pull away. Crowley took that as a good sign, along with the slight nod in response to his question, though that nod also sent pangs through his chest. Crowley wanted to apologize, to curse the god that would let such a beautiful being as Aziraphale fall for him. He wanted to say something harsh, to push Aziraphale away. Aziraphale was an angel in a way that most of Heaven’s army would never understand. That he thought he loved a demon, of all things, was proof of that. Crowley couldn’t stand the thought of Aziraphale falling for him, couldn’t bear the idea of the more biblical _F_ _ all _ the angel was bound for if Crowley let him in. 

But Crowley also wanted to pull the angel closer, to hold him, to say ‘finally,  _ finally _ we are on the same page.’ To gently scold Aziraphale for being so clearly scared by what he said, so clearly scared that his feelings aren't, or more likely, couldn’t be reciprocated. Crowley could almost laugh at the idea of not being in love with Aziraphale. It was something that was almost as much a part of him as his red hair.

But could confess his own feelings? The heart beating in his chest was terrified, now. He could lose everything. Not just the arrangement, not just the friendship. He had waited so long for this, for any sign that what he had been feeling since damn near the beginning of time was reciprocated. But if he spoke up, could he keep Aziraphale safe? Pulling himself out of the spiral his thoughts had formed, Crowley felt his hand still on Aziraphale’s shoulder. Felt the warmth of the angel’s corporeal body and, just off this plane of existence, he could feel the angel’s wings. They hummed in his mind, not the pure tone of a true form, but a higher level than the corporeal one. 

Another glance at their surroundings and he pulled slightly on Aziraphale’s shoulder. The angel spun slowly to face him. They were only a handful of inches apart, Crowley standing tall, ever watchful. Aziraphale stood with his head bent, hands twisting around each other, watching Crowley carefully. The demon glanced around again, then took Aziraphale’s hands in his own. 

Aziraphale raised his head slightly at the new contact, just enough to meet Crowley’s eyes. There was a fire in them, as always. But also a softness, a kindness, that Aziraphale only saw every so often. Mostly he saw it when Crowley was talking to children. Sometimes he caught it directed at himself when Crowley thought he wasn’t paying attention. And now, the full force of that gentle but determined look was fixated on him. Aziraphale couldn’t help but lean closer, melting under the intensity of Crowley’s gaze. Crowley smirked and leaned in, kissing Aziraphale’s forehead, and then resting his own head in the same spot. A shy smile crept onto Aziraphale’s features, and he let out a long sigh of relief. Crowley laughed softly and squeezed his hands. 

“In case it wasn’t already apparent, your feelings are reciprocated, Angel. I love you. I’ve loved you since Eden, just wasn’t ever expecting you to love me.”

Just then, two ducks came gliding down into the river, close enough to startle the two beings from their focus on each other. They laughed at themselves and at each other and then wandered off along the path together. Aziraphale suggested dinner, and Crowley agreed.


End file.
